Doubt Chapter 5: Court of Royals, a gravitation fanfic

CHAPTER 5 – Court of Royals

"It's becoming ridiculous." Nakano Hiroshi declared, shaking his head in annoyance. "Nothing seems to be shaking him out of it at all,"

Hiro had just finished relaying to Mr. K, Bad Luck gun-toting manager extraordinaire, the relayed message from Shindou Maiko regarding their vocalist and his Christmas vacation. The rock band frontman had gone on a week's vacation with his family.

The Shindou family had been out, stayed in, gone to visit, and been visited. Shuichi had been polite, smiling and attentive to his family. He had been a dutiful son, visiting the family shrine and helping around the house. He had taken out his keyboard and performed for his father and his cronies when the group had gathered for tea. He had even charmed the ladies, whose son-in-law-hunting mamas had thrown his way.

And charmed the mamas as well.

Needless to say, the Shindou family was on the verge of a quiet panic.

He smiled but there was little warmth and when he laughed it was with only a fraction of his former delight. He seemed withdrawn and alone even in a crowd of adoring people. He had hardly shared anything of what was happening in Tokyo. He was spied to have been staying up late into the night, strumming a few chords on his new guitar and jotting more lyrical notes. He mostly kept to himself if there were no plans.

Then Maiko struck a note in Hiro as they'd talked: She observed that this deterioration had begun even before the incident with Yuki Eiri, Shuichi's satisfyingly former lover.

As He and K strode through the NG Records hall he continued, "I don't have any ideas on what to do at the moment, but more and more people are reporting back on how badly he is doing," Hiro was careful to moderate his voice, this conversation was not for others to overhear. "We really have to figure something out."

K grunted in acknowledgement of Hiro's words as they walked, his gaze busy glaring sparks at the general crowd in his way, making them scatter.

"Maiko was rather surprised that he left home as he had planned, behaving the way he had." Hiro added thoughtfully, "In spite of his outward act, she seems to think that he looked a lot like the time he ran away home shortly before the Tokyo Bay Music Festival."

"Which one?" K smirked slightly.

The Bad Luck singer was rather known for his dramatics and over-reactions but things really were not the same with him anymore and had not been for some time now. Hiro was rather annoyed that K refused to acknowledge that they had a bigger problem on their hands than the normal run of the mill daily drama.

"She and I are really concerned!" Hiro snapped mildly, still aware that there were prying eyes and ears about the NG halls. As they stepped into the empty elevator, Hiro turned to glare at the tall blonde next to him. "You may not see it but Maiko and I do."

K waved in an off-handed manner. "He has been doing his work, he's on the ball with promotions and has been putting more of an effort with the marketing team than ever before. He's growing up," He paused to spare the irate guitarist a condescending glance. "And maybe he's a lot tougher than you think."

"Next time he disappears-" Hiro broke off his rant as the elevator stopped on their floor. He made a concentrated effort to stomp down his intense irritation at having not taken the opportunity of their elevator solitude to give the stubborn Manager a piece of his mind. Lowering his voice, he hissed, "If he doesn't come back from his parents' house, I'm going to take great pleasure in telling you 'I told you so'!"

"I can go get him if you want me to, na no da!" Sakuma Ryuichi declared, popping out from behind a nearby vending machine.

"Hello, there Ryuichi!" The American boomed out in his loud voice. "Worry not, Shuichi hasn't run away!"

Biting back a groan of frustration, Hiro stomped ahead into the dedicated Bad Luck recording room. Following sedately, Ryuichi captured K's eyes and held them, looking rather more sombre than his usual childish self. "Shuichi-kun looks like he'll falling off of the world."

Hiro glanced back over his shoulder to note the change in the music legend, confirming that they were now dealing with the 'real' Sakuma Ryuichi. Thank goodness for another voice on his side! "Shuichi has always been a dependent person. He's much too unguarded and loving to be anything but."

Holding the door open for his two companions Hiro paused to nod at the lone occupant of the room. Fujisaki Suguru nodded back, settling things down with his work to come over and join the conversation. He focused his attention back on the annoying blonde.

"He has always needed people to watch out for him, to encourage him and get him back on his feet come rough times." Hiro mustered up his best 'listen up' glare which the American generally ignored. "And this is one of those times!"

Ryuichi nodded, waving his pink bunny madly in the air. "Shuichi-kun doesn't sparkle so much anymore, na no da!" The Nittle Grasper lead vocalist liked to say that Shuichi 'sparkled' when referring to Shuichi's ability to make his singing resound with intent and heart, which was something most were inclined to agree with.

K did not even dignify either statements with a reply or an acknowledgement, turning to greet the approaching figure. "Hello Fujisaki-kun, where is Shuichi-kun?"

Fujisaki greeted the imposing American politely before knitting his brows together in mild annoyance. "I sent him away for the day, as he was a little underfoot." He turned to regard his band mate. "He has prepared lyrics for our recent home jam sessions that we can work on, so it was not necessary for him to remain."

Hiro paused to take in Fujisaki's proper and whole-worded speech, allowing his previous negativity to fade. There was work to be done, a whole night of it in fact, and so he moved to take up his place in the studio, pausing briefly to blast K with one last icy glare.

"Thanks," he told Fujisaki, "that sounds alright. He did mention he had plans today."

"He needs to concentrate on the new singles, not be gallivanting about God knows where!" K snorted. "He works himself too hard as it is, I bet that is the reason he has seemed so 'off' lately."

Hiro thoroughly disliked the man's air of superiority.

"I agree. If he keeps up at this mad pace, he will most certainly fall apart before we even finish promotions for the new CD." Fujisaki raked a hand through his dark locks. "And then what'll happen to the tour?"

Hiro tossed Fujisaki a dirty look as he picked up his guitar. "It's not all about the band, you know."

The younger man had the decency to be embarrassed, turning to fiddle with his keyboard and prepare for rehearsal. "Although, speaking of band matters," Fujisaki narrowed his eyes. "Has anyone noticed how his Midnight Jams have been getting a little… dark?"

"Everything about him is becoming darker by the day – lyrics, dress and attitude." K complained, taking a seat. "The only off-set is that he's dyed his hair pink again."

Hiro picked up his guitar and began to automatically tune it. "Well it's not like anyone dislikes the changes, really. I actually think it kind of suits him." Adjusting the weight of the guitar on the strap over his shoulder, he turned to face K. "Mika might have something to do with that and by the way, is it just me or is Shuichi spending a lot of time with Tatsuha and Mika-san?"

"It's not just you," Fujisaki confirmed. "He's been escorting Mika-san to various functions, including the Producers' Ball the other day."

Hiro let loose a low whistle at that, "And where was her permanent escort?" obviously referring to her husband.

"With me, sealing a deal with a new band," K supplied. "The group is looking very promising and no, you don't have to worry about competition, they're more of a candy pop group."

Hiro resisted the urge to point out the fact that Bad Luck had started out as a candy pop group. He returned his attention to his guitar, to exercising his fingers and getting down to work.

"Do we have any plans after today, Fujisaki-kun?" He looked up in query at his band mate. "I was thinking it would be nice to go out clubbing for a while tonight when we take a break, since we won't get much of a chance once the album launch comes around. Hey, Sakuma-san, would you like to-" Hiro had turned to where he had last seen he vocalist standing only to find the man no where in the room.

"I hate it when he does that." K muttered. He got up to leave them be and tend to his own workload. "See you boys later."

Shaking his head as his impossible manager departed, Hiro turned to Fujisaki and waited for the boy to notice his stare. He used the time to arrange his thoughts on the matter he wished to broach. His uncertainty doubled when the keyboardist finally met his gaze.

"Na, Fujisaki," Hiro suddenly found the well-kept keyboard quite fascinating. "Did Seguchi-san happen to speak to you about… Shuichi… recently? Maybe in regard to… Yuki-san?"

"Why do you ask?"

Hiro hesitated. Seguchi-san had drawn Hiro aside after a recent recording session and asked if Shuichi had mentioned anything about the writer. Hiro had had to admit that most of their recent songs were sad and longing, but that Shuichi was much too angry to directly discuss Yuki Eiri.

With a series of carefully worded queries, however, Seguchi-san had gleaned more information out of Hiro than he would have like for the NG president to know. He couldn't lie to the man, and though he tried not to volunteer information the man simply seemed to know what questions to ask in what order to get the information that he wanted. He was wary of the cutthroat business man that was Seguchi Tohma, doubly so at the idea of the man when concerned for his beloved 'Eiri-san'. The man went too far for that sadistic bastard, in Hiro's opinion.

Hiro disclosed an edited version of his thoughts, enough to answer the question.

"Briefly," Fujisaki admitted, turning fully away from the musical instrument that was his pride and joy and facing Hiro. "Nakano-san, he is also concerned for the band's welfare."

"I am certain he spares one other person more concern than he would the band," Hiro muttered. "And I would quite like to borrow one of K's 'babies' and shoot the bastard in question through his heart."

"If he has one," Fujisaki nodded in perfect agreement. "Get in line behind the bad karma," He turned to flip a few switches on his keyboard before stretching his fingers back carefully in preparation for musical composition, "He will get what he deserves, Nakano-san."

If it wasn't the regular plugging, the innumerable billboards or the TV and radio guest appearances, it would have to be the crowd.

One can turn away from the posters and billboards, can switch off the radio or TV, but it is difficult to tune out the squeals or high-pitched conversations. All of it on endless loop about Bad Luck and its new album set to release in just a few more days. It was driving him positively mad.

Uesugi "Yuki" Eiri felt that if he had to hear his former lover's name or more about said lover's band one more time, he would be certain to relinquish his hold on his sanity.

That was until he had all sense knocked out of him when he actually spied the lithe little singer for himself.

He froze.

There was no mistaking that walk and no forgetting that smile –it was Shindou Shuichi who had just walked out of the hospital's swinging doors. Shuichi was rather poorly disguised with black dyed hair, a pair of glasses and rugged casual day wear. Flanked by one very sombre looking slender girl and a tall flame-red coiffed young man, he walked sedately by, perpendicular to Eiri's path from the side parking lot.

Both looked to be about Shuichi's age; Eiri recognised neither. The girl was dressed in a slim fitting flower print shirt-dress over a pair of dark trousers under her quilted coat, her slight frame making her look almost boyish. She had perfectly straight brown hair that fell into a straight chop across her back just above her elbow, with blunt cut bangs falling to just above her large brown eyes. Flame Hair, who stood quite substantially over Shuichi, was wearing dark jeans and a tee shirt under his sporty ski jacket, hair shaped upright making him look even taller. He was bent a little toward Shuichi saying something the singer obviously found funny.

The familiar, melodious laugh made Eiri's stomach clench. Who were these people and why were they coming out of the hospital?

Then again he really didn't care. That right there was the man who had been occupying the better part of his waking thoughts and the shadows of his dreams. He blatantly stared, watching them make their way down the path toward the hospital front bus stop. They joked and talked, the volume changing constantly, a mark of an absorbed conversation. They laughed a few times, but Eiri's ears strained to attend to only one source.

When the bus arrived and the trio boarded, Eiri lost sight of them and finally released a breath he had not been aware of holding. He took stock of himself and found his heart beating madly, breath ragged.

Shuichi was gone again.

Nothing to see.

Plenty to think, though, and race his mind did.

It was what bothered him about being in public –they sank into his consciousness. Watching people made Eiri's mind work and think, conjure up back stories to the excerpts of life he witnessed on streets and in shops. How else did he have so much to say, so many stories to tell and more thoughts than his mind could store? Life happened all around him and his mind unconsciously painted scenes and backgrounds to everything he witnessed.

A girl could glare at a companion in her little group as they walked along, and Eiri would see a secret love triangle. A conservatively dressed middle-aged man could watch a punk-rock teen skateboard by, and Eiri would see a man wondering after his lost son somewhere in the world. Parallel words unfolded before Eiri's eyes, and seeing Shuichi today was no different.

A new girlfriend; a new boyfriend; a boyfriend and the boyfriend's sister, or backwards. The ideas were endless.

But Shuichi was gone.

Nothing to see.

Time to move along.

"Nii-chan isn't here," Maiko insisted, leading the way into the living room.

Shindou Maiko's three friends, Miaka, Haruhi and Tamaki glanced about the simple house with some trepidation.

Maiko's cram school friends had heard little about Maiko's brother, only that he was very busy with his career in Tokyo. They had observed how the Shindou family possessed stylish clothing, a new car and whizzy technological gadgetry, not to mention the nice new furniture additions and other assorted luxuries. A few who bothered to busy-body in their little lecture hall were aware that Mr Shindou's wages did not allow such trappings, and a few had indulged in gossiping of the fantasy that Maiko's brother was involved with the Yakuza.

Miaka, Haruhi and Tamaki had, of course, asked their friend for more information about her brother but while Maiko denied gang involvement, she neither supplied her brother's true occupation nor answered further probing queries about him.

"So, do you think we might get to meet him?" Tamaki bravely asked with an uncertain voice, although his surroundings look normal enough in his own opinion.

"And we would not wish to be any trouble, of course." Haruhi added. Miaka was too nervous to contribute anything.

Maiko sighed.

They were supposed to be spending the night over at the Bad Luck house while Shuichi and the group were away at the studio finalizing another single. No one would be home until the early hours of the morning around the time they planned to hit the shops before disappearing back home. She was rather thankful she hadn't told her new friends about her brother, but it was becoming annoying that they refused to relax. She would have preferred to have her eye teeth removed without anaesthesia than to convince these three to return to this house again.

"He knows you are here and you are in no one's way at all," Maiko cheerily assured them, ignoring the other questions, indicating that they should take their bags upstairs. She led the troupe up the steps, making noise and feeling at home. "They're working late into the early morning so no one will be in until after we have all left." Good thing too, she thought, or K might give them all a heart attack.

Maiko tossed her things into Shuichi's room before putting the two girls in the guest room and Tamaki in Hiro's room. Tamaki whistled appreciatively at the expensive guitar and other equipment lying in one corner of the room. She warned him forthrightly, "I really don't think you should nose around in here."

She showed them where the extra futons were for them to use on top of the regular bedding or on the floor, and showed them the bathroom and toilet.

As they trooped down together, honestly, one would think they were expecting people to jump out of the woodwork!, Maiko heard the distinct sound of the front door opening. Her three companions froze in their steps on the stair.

"Who's there?" Maiko called, not remembering if she had heard the intruder use a key.

"Who's in my house?" The voice countered.

"Nii-chan!" Maiko lightly jogged the rest of the way down and met him in the foyer. "I thought you would be out at NG all night!"

"NG?" Tamaki was shaken out of his pause.

He and the two girls exchanged glances before proceeding down the steps, the foyer coming into view again. They stared as their friend put her hands on her hips and glared down at who they supposed was her older brother. The young man grinned impishly up at his sibling and, with a hand, mussed his black locks, the other hand on his hip. He looked scruffy and normal in faded jeans, cotton layers and worn sneakers. His glasses skewed comically on his face as he scratched his head.

"I was supposed to but I finished my bit early," He brightened suddenly. "Would you like to go out clubbing with me? I have a friend-"

"First tell me what happened to your hair!" Maiko demanded.

"Oh, it's wash-out colour! I was out in town and needed a disguise--" The three on the stairs gasped at the word 'disguise'. "--but it's really itchy. Hold on while I go wash this out. You and your friends decide if you want to hang out tonight."

With that, the little blur sped off down the ground floor hall. Maiko turned to regard her friends expectantly. "There you are. I'll introduce you when he returns. He's a nice guy, really."

Miaka hesitantly spoke up. "I would like to go clubbing…" Haruhi glared. "Well, I did say I would like to visit a Tokyo club this time!"

Tamaki rolled the idea around a little in his head. It would be fun, and he hadn't been to any parties in the city yet. Would be a shame to let this opportunity slide… They mulled about it for a while and decided that if they could all find things suitable to wear, that they would go out.

Maiko grinned at them. "Nii-chan might have a few things that we can borrow, actually. He has a collection of really funky clothes in one of the closets upstairs."

Haruhi looked nervous at that idea. "Why would he have clothes suitable for girls?"

Miaka's expression echoed Haruhi's apprehension at that idea. Maiko waved their concern aside. "He just has a lot of club wear stuff that is really adjustable and versatile. It could be worn by a guy--" She shot Tamaki a pointed look, "--or a girl and it would still look great!"

"So what's the verdict?" Shuichi bounced back, towel about his shoulders as he vigorously scrubbed the wetness away.

The three turned to look and then stare at the transformed pink hair framing a spectacles-free face they now all recognised –one which graced not only a few of their own CDs, but more advertising space across the nation than they could fathom. They identified him in unison,

"Shindou Shuichi of Bad Luck!"

Shuichi smiled. "That's me!" He smiled warmly at them before turning to his sister. "You didn't tell them, did you?"

"Not on your life."

"Let's try this again," He sighed, facing them again with a charming grin in place. "Welcome to my home."

They stared in stunned silence.

Shuichi groaned, "Maiko!"

The mid January chill could storm all it liked but it would never invade the sanctity of Seguchi Tohma's presidential suite of an office.

Just as the mess and torment of the world did little to affect the unbending iron of his will and purpose in the world. He had plans and they would happen; it was that simple.

It was people that shook things up for him. They were predictable, familiar and boring chess pieces for the most part, but the few who surprised him… well, they were special. He liked them; these curious persons that refused to conform to him, who denied him control. They had such spirit he found them quite exciting.

He supposed that if he tried, he could break them. But he knew it would be the last thing these kinds of people would allow him to do. In the end, they would be like those pretty porcelain dolls –grace and beauty still evident as the irreparable pieces lie across the floor, taunting him. And they would be empty. Being broken would be the last surrender, a point from which they would not return. Really, what would be the purpose in achieving that other than to test his cruelty? They were so much more enthralling just the way they were.

They sparred and sniped back, made messes Tohma would have to clean up, and went one way when he expected and maybe forced them to go another. Eyes flashing and tempers flaring, it made him shudder. In his barren and numb world of plot and control, they shook him to his core.

They made him feel alive.

The person who had most recently caught his interest was still constantly surprising him, and Tohma found himself all the more intrigued. He was very interested in this Shindou Shuichi.

He supposed that he had never expected the young man to become so important to him but the series of events leading to today had gone rather well, had unfolded sensibly, all things considered. He found it was not unpleasant to appreciate Shuichi.

Tohma lounged back in his leather chair and idly pondered how things had been one hell of an emotional hurricane for the singer.

He had watched the downward spiral of things that reduced the man to a core of will and determination. Tohma was amazed, really, and the rock star never ceased to surprise him these days. The Shuichi he thought he had known would have cracked and broken down into a catatonic state by now. Instead, Tohma found himself with a calculating and controlled, very talented and skilled asset on his hands. The intensity that had caught his attention back in the early days when Bad Luck was only an opening act, was now concentrated into a precise and raw power.

That commanding and potent air was a rare commodity in this business and he understood what this development would mean in terms of Shuichi's worth to NG Records… and to him personally.

He had no choice in not only recognising, but respecting the young man.

Tohma swung his seat back around to face his desk, elbows resting on the arm rests, hands folded together across his chest. He turned to survey the set up in the far side of his office, the remains of an exclusive press conference held earlier.

"Can you share any thoughts on a future with a new relationship?" That annoying Kaoruko columnist had asked Shuichi. K had reached to draw his gun but no one had noticed, all silent and focused on the recipient of the query, waiting on bated breath for the reply.

Shuichi had casually waved to K, keeping his audience's attention on him by allowing his smile to widen into a grin. I can handle this, His gesture said.

"If you all keep hounding me like you have been for the past months, how in the world am I going to meet anyone new and get around to courting someone?" They chuckled, eating out of his hand as he twinkled at them.

"Certainly my love life has been the object of a lot of speculation," Shuichi wisely jumped ahead as the mirth died down, cutting off the opportunity for further uncomfortable questions. "Fans are still curious about what happened and what will happen in my love life." His speech slowed and dropped in volume almost imperceptibly yet steadily as he spoke, bringing the reporters into his pace and forcing them to quiet if they wanted to hear what he had to say. "I should address this, so I am considering an exclusive interview sometime in the near future to outline everything that I have to say on the matters of my heart, both past and future."

The gasps were loud.

Then the quiet rumble began: When, with who, how and why… they were quietly and madly excited; a few pulled out their mobile phones and frantically began to send messages, scrambling to rally the forces. They all knew what this meant: Highest bidder wins the interview. And they were scrambling for dibs on it.

Shuichi gestured for them to calm, "Please be patient with us while we sort this out, I need to come to better terms with the past myself and prepare to speak on the topic." Oh they were delirious now. He smiled prettily at them, intensity evident in his eyes, and wrapped things up. "I'll see you all at the party later. Thank you for coming!"

Should, he had said. Considering, he had said. Genius!

Tohma had to swallow his smile having not been expecting Shuichi to employ such a tactic. He'd supplied something along the lines of what they wanted to hear but nothing concrete, tossing out a lure too good not to bite. Even Fujisaki Suguru had been shocked at Shuichi's forward thinking and Tohma found he did not particularly like being part of the category of people who were constantly underestimating the singer.

Hmm. 'Singer' was no longer an appropriate pronoun in reference to Shuichi… And Tohma still thought it was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Thinking about the many people, the contacts, waiting to be networked downstairs at the Bad Luck album launch party made him very excited. He and Shuichi had a lot of work to do…

"He's with Mika-san at the moment," K announced, making his usual noisy and unannounced entrance, pulling Tohma out of his musings. "He will be up to join us shortly." He narrowed his eyes at the calm blonde behind the desk as he threw himself into a seat. "Now, what is this 'important matter to discuss' that you mentioned?"

Tohma eyed his most talented manager as he leaned forward over his desk, elbows shifting to rest on the smooth wood surface, lips curved in smiling mask.

"Perhaps you might share Nakano-san's news with me first?" It was not really a question. He listened patiently to the retelling, processed the additional information and made his calculations. K waited, familiar with the process. A low, concerned voice was not expected, however.

"You are right in that something must be done, Mr. K," He pinned the blonde with a meaningful gaze. "But at present, while we do know that the problem will eventually find its own end, we do not know what we will be left with afterward."

K tensed.

Tohma watched him carefully. "We have need to prepare damage control because Shuichi is sick, Mr. K," Eyes unguarded and posture tense, he knew he was probably communicating more of his concern than he might have preferred. "A tumour has been found near his left brain stem, in a rather… uncomfortable location."

K's expression drew together in a pinched scowl, eyes glittering with their intensity, and Tohma recognised the symptoms of K's version of shock.

"He has been undergoing tests and evaluations, is under medication and therapy. His condition is stable and he appears to be managing very well both professionally and personally, considering his circumstance." As Tohma explained, referred to past time landmarks and outlined the situation, he also carefully watched his listener's reactions.

"Upon Shuichi's insistence, the album launch and tour will go ahead as scheduled. Things have been moving at their deceptively steady pace, quite as though nothing in the world were wrong." Tohma paused to give a small smile. "But I suspect that Shuichi has been working on that from all sides, has he not?"

Recognition glimmered in K's eyes, and he nodded in affirmative.

Without pause, Tohma relentlessly forged ahead. "And today, in order to prepare afore mentioned damage control, Noriko, Ryuichi, Shuichi and I will be pre-recording the press announcement of the merge between Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper."

K's jaw dropped.

Tohma honestly lamented that he would not have time to savour the view as he continued, "The past two years have taught me that I cannot remain both NG Records president and a keyboardist in a band at the same time. Nittle Grasper will soon find itself incomplete." He paused briefly, about to touch on the most weighty matter of the discussion, and chose his words with care. "And in the event that Bad Luck should find itself in need of a singer, both bands will be able to address each other's needs –hence the merge."

K snapped to attention. "What do you mean 'in the even that Bad Luck should find itself in need of a singer? You just said-"

"Yes, I said 'in the event', Mr. K," Tohma interrupted smoothly. "Shuichi's operation is scheduled to take place after the tour."

"Operation…" The normally imposing manager muttered weakly as he passed a hand over his face.

"He will be leaving for America almost as soon as he returns from the tour where he will be taken in to a very successful hospital in Washington DC," Tohma explained briefly, outlining time lines and expectations. He took a breath before continuing, "If he… does not return, then this video along with a few others will be released to the press."

K gathered himself in his seat, tensed and furious, "And if he does not return?" His eyes narrowed, genuinely angry at the NG President, "If he does not return?! You should hear yourself, this is madness!"

"It's Shuichi's wish," Ryuichi's voice charged in from the doorway. The Nittle Grasper singer strode into the room, outlandishly dressed as usual, but sporting a rare and serious expression. He came to a stop before the outraged Mr. K and turned his glittering gaze down on his former manager. "And quite possibly, like it or not, perhaps his last wish. Who are we to deny him this?"

"Indeed it is Shuichi's will that we make preparations," Tohma cut in, attempting to diffuse the growing tension. "He has been very specific about what he wants and what to prepare for and I refuse to ignore his very sensible arguments." He slowly stood, resting his palms on the desk. "Needless to say, if all goes smoothly then there will be no need to… complicate things and no one would be the wiser. Setting aside the grim reasons behind this decision, in the event that the… preparations are found to have been necessary it would make a lot of people quite happy."

"Sounds like a morbid consolation prize!" K snapped, surging to his feet, refusing to allow Tohma's purposeful stance to intimidate him.

"View it as you wish, decide your opinion and then kindly share your thoughts with me, but you are not to breathe a word of this to anyone. And spare Sakano," He added, almost as an after thought, "All he knows is that Shuichi-san is going to America to meet a music teacher friend of mine."

"And for Public Consumption, you declared that the band would be on break after the tour for cranking out an album nearly every 10 months," K glared at the smaller blonde across the desk. "That was slick, Seguchi-san."

"Nonsense," Tohma plastered on his calm smile, that 'I am in control' curve that Mr. K had come to recognise as the wall that separated Seguchi Tohma from the world of mere mortals. "I believe that you can rise to this challenge. The resulting band will, after all, be yours to manage."

Damn that sweet tone of voice.

The gears engaged in K's minds. No doubt the resulting band would be the handful of a lifetime, with the 'past meets future' coming together in a storm that could quite possible surpass… No, no, no! Not supposed to be liking this idea, damn it, what with it being at the cost of a life.

Shindou Shuichi's life.

He had no idea how to process this, what to do on the matter. How does one wake up and find that all is not as it seems? Poor kid must be breaking apart…

No, actually he isn't.

K frowned.

So that's what's been going on. Damn Tohma. No wonder he and his wife had been stealing that boy from him so much; stealing him away from the friends who would have hounded the boy instead of letting him get on with his life. The boy was probably up to his eyeballs in work.

Escorting Mika to functions, appearing at Seguchi Tohma's side a few times too often, K had honestly thought it was the Seguchis' way of showing their support of one of NG Records' top talents. K snorted. Should have learned long ago not to believe anything that appeared simple where NG was concerned, and it was damnably embarrassing to get caught out like this.

The unannounced knock on the door pronounced the arrival of Tohma's wife, Mika, with the pink-haired spazz in tow. K met Tohma's gaze, who shook his head slightly.

Mika doesn't know, K realised. It's now or never.

"It's about time!" Boomed the American, glaring at the object of his worries. He disliked Tohma's satisfied smile, but concentrated on getting things going. This would need his full attention.

"Well, I could hardly deny Queen Mika's wishes!" protested Shuichi, cute pout in place, "When Her Highness demands, all must submit," he flashed Mika a teasing grin before turning to regard his childhood idol. "Hey, Ryuichi-san, how are you doing?"

The two reduced themselves to children as they flicked through the wardrobe and accessories rack in the far corner of the room, joking about hairstyles and style. Ryuichi snagged an electric blue eye liner pencil and proceeded to doodle on Shuichi's face. The younger boy giggled madly. Mika sighed, and turned to her husband.

"Honestly, those two are such idiots!" She did not miss the tense look between her husband and the tall American that she'd just interrupted, too smooth to let her surprise break her sentence. She was a Seguchi now, after all.

Pressing a button on his telephone console, Tohma uttered two words, "We're ready."

Ready for what, one could wonder.

"Remember we have dinner at my aunt's tonight, Tohma," She smilingly reminded him before asking, "What colour?"

She nodded at his reply and swept from the room after quick good byes. His choice of clothing colour for tonight known, she would conform her wardrobe accordingly. They were a powerful couple, the president and the marketing head, and from family dinner to industry event they would always appear at their best.

What happened in private was another matter, and she rather looked forward to unravelling her husband's latest little secret. In the hall, the awaited elevator opened to release a senior small-production team obviously en route to the office she'd just departed.

Yes, I am looking forward to it very much.

In the presidential office, K began waving his firearm madly at the crew demanding they assure him of their oath to secrecy. Really, it was not as if anyone would dare to cross NG Records or Seguchi Tohma. Ryuichi was fussing with K, trying to reassure the production crew of their safety in between them trying to convince him not to burst into tears.

Tohma settled himself down onto the little couch fitted into the recessed window near Shuichi, who was perched on the arm rest, cotton ball in hand, methodically removing the liner pencil writing on his face. "The documentary is going well, Shuichi-san, as I am sure you know."

Shuichi tossed Tohma a small smile, continuing his ministrations on himself but remaining in attention.

It was never a strange thing for cameras to appear within the NG halls in a normal working day. There were always production crews at work somewhere in the building, catching what they could of the working day on camera inside these no-press-allowed walls of NG Records. So the crew hung around Bad Luck more often these days, it was easily explained away by the upcoming album.

Hiro and Fujisaki did not need to know that Tohma was recording a Farewell music video for Shuichi to record what might very well be his last press address.

"Ryuichi and Noriko are enthusiastic about the possibility of a merge," Tohma spoke with complete gentleness. "But as you know, I would rather this not be discussing this at all, much less… preparing."

Shuichi tossed his used cotton ball into a nearby rubbish bin, turned back to impassively meet Tohma's gaze and said nothing.

"I trust them, Ryuichi and Noriko, with all these developments." Tohma paused for the briefest moment. "Will you not reconsider sharing your news with your own band mates?"

"I trust my band mates, Tohma-san," Shuichi's voice had that flat, emotionless tone to it that the older man particularly disliked. "I trust them wholeheartedly, but I also love them. I do not want them worrying and fussing, straining themselves and not enjoying what might be one of the best tours of our career." He turned to watch Ryuichi who, without Noriko to keep him calm and occupied, was now very successfully bothering the production crew.

"No regrets, then?" Tohma asked softly.

"Only that it has to be like this."

"This is only a safety net, and it is not one I am comfortable preparing."

"I know, and I am truly thankful for all that you are doing." Shuichi continued to watch the Nittle Grasper singer's antics. Watching Ryuichi make a noisy fuss across the room made the two quiet gentlemen all the more aware of the silence between them. Tohma sighed softly. He turned and glared until Shuichi met his gaze.

"You are protecting even me, Shuichi, and that is too much to ask of yourself."

Shuichi quirked a brow at the blonde over the use of his first name, but smiled calmly.

"That should be my expression," Tohma observed dryly.

"I think I learned it from you, Tohma-san." Shuichi's smile became a fraction warmer, more sincere. The two shared a small smile. "What about Sakano?"

Tohma accepted the wind-down in the conversation topic without fuss. Shuichi could only speak of the darker option in his future for so long. "He will remain in his position as a producer," He moved over on the couch so that Shuichi could move down from his arm rest perch.

Shuichi did not respond as he shifted, staring a little sadly at Ryuichi perched on a high stool and on the receiving end of the stylist's ministration.

"I firmly believe things will work out for the best, Shuichi,"

The young man nodded unenthusiastically in acknowledgement of his words, standing as another of the crew waved him over.

Tohma reached out a wrapped his slim fingers about Shuichi's wrist and, almost immediately, Ryuichi upset one of the standing lighting fixtures. The NG president suspected that his singer had been watching them carefully, ready to draw attention away from the two speaking solemnly in the far corner if necessary.

Taking full advantage of the opportunity he seized the precious moment. At a volume that dissipates too quickly into the thin air, he softly whispered up at the young man, "Do you miss him?"

There was no mistaking whom 'him' it was that Tohma referred to. He whispered back, the topic too fragile to be discussed in a normal voice. "All the time, Tohma, asleep or awake."

All things considered, Tohma had nothing substantial to reply to that. "I'm sorry."

Wrist released, Shuichi drew a breath and stepped forward ready to work. He did not glance back at the sad figure watching silently from the far couch.

At the NG Album launch party for Bad Luck's latest, Shindou Shuichi was nothing short of a sparkling star.

People flocked to congratulate him on his newest success, to press congratulations at the album's debut in the number one spot of the charts. His smiled at everyone, fielded praise out to his band mates and co-workers, accepted business cards and distributed his own. He was the epitome of graciousness.

Before the split with Yuki Eiri, he had been mostly loved as a spoilt little rock star. But since he'd had plenty of time on his hands and sunk his claws further into the NG label, people were discovering what an utterly charming and well-bred young man he was. The attention had followed into the singer's world and shed light into almost every corner.

Spoilt little star? Please.

Awake at dawn, exercising to maintain his cardiac strength, dance class, singing class, tutors and producers. Long days filled with physical and mental work with a few creative sessions thrown into the mix before all ending in a rather late night when most were done with dinner and getting ready for bed. Who'd have thought that stars worked so hard?

And he was… different.

Despite the restoration of his hair colour to the distinctive pink, there was initially little to connect the dots to the well-presented and clever man the industry was suddenly faced with. They took to him, of course, and he reigned princely in Tohma's little kingdom.

This evening he was dressed in a deep plum coloured dress shirt, making his eyes appear lighter and brighter, under an ash-grey pinstripe suit. From his suit breast pocket poked a silver kerchief to match the silver of his tie, upon which perched a tasteful amethyst dragonfly brooch.

With his music-politics knowledge as sharp as ever, he talked company representatives into buying into NG assets. NG Records was, after all, not just a production company, but an empire of voice and music talents to suit many purposes. TV time advertisement jingles needed songwriters, too. He even got a good word in with a movie director who might have need for a soundtrack in his film currently in production.

He courted, wooed and flirted his way through the crowds of his own album launch party until even the serving staff wondered at where he got his stamina. They were used to it, charmed by the young man's easy going and genuine personality. He knew most of them by name and politely thanked them each for service rendered. They still worried; such was the force of character in him. They knew this would be a fast paced evening for him and so took the initiative to bring him drinks, bring him food. They surreptitiously smiled and whispered words of care and caution.

It was noticed.

Furtive glances, pointed stares. There were more than a few people in the crowd who watched the handsome young man with interest. And watched how well-received he was by both executives and staff. He was as warm and approachable as ever. And it drew people all the more to him…

A pair of deep aquamarine eyes flitted back to Shuichi occasionally throughout the night, assessing the singer's state before turning back to whatever was at hand. The King of the ball himself was not above intense scrutiny, so he was careful with his habit of watching over his Prince. At one instance, he paused to note Shuichi's suddenly tense posture. The boy's eyes glittered, brows drawn ever so slightly together, glaring at something or someone across the room.

Following the line of sight, Tohma found his eyes captured by a familiar shade of blonde amidst a faint cloud of smoke. Ah, but it was not who either had expected. He recognised the tall Swiss-Japanese producer friend he had roped in to work on one of NG's many projects.

False alarm. He returned to his conversation.

Later in the night, he found his way to Shuichi's side and gracefully stepped into the conversation in flow. Apart, the two were impressive, together, they were magical. They held court until Mika came forward, undoubtedly their Queen. Despite her reputation as an NG marketing shark, she relaxed when in the company of these two men who acquiesced to her every wish. By her husband's side, she appreciated the humour of the little star and calmed enough to laugh. The trio chatted and bantered with such shine that cameras began flashing all over again.

Of course, it was all over the newspapers the next day.

"Ah, Shindou-sama," Miho-san exclaimed. "You looked quite dashing last night!"

Shuichi smiled a little as he shoved the mobile phone into the crook of his neck between shoulder and chin, freeing his hands to attend to his shoes. "Thank you, Miho-san!" He could imagine the old man in his apron and gloves standing amidst his florist shop displays. "I appreciate your compliments so early in the morning, but I was wondering if it would still be possible to order a bouquet of flowers for Valentine's Day. It's very late, I know-"

"Aha!" Miho-san interrupted, voice distant from the receiver as he seemed to speak to someone in his shop. "I told you he would order from us, we do this for him every year! I win!"

Someone spoke in the background, too far away for Shuichi to make out the words.

"Don't worry about a thing, Shindou-sama," Miho-san's pride evident in his voice. "Shall we prepare the usual three dozen roses for delivery to the usual address?"

"Yes, please." Shuichi paused, uncertain. "Er, Miho-san, did you have a bet going about me?"

Miho-san's voice sounded sheepish across the line. "Ahh, well… you see…" He snapped out of his embarrassment and exclaimed, "I offer my sincerest apologies, please do not take offence!"

"Ah, don't worry about it, I was just curious." He bit his lip. "Urm… what was the bet about?"

"This idiot cousin of mine thought that you would not be sending flowers to Yuki-sama this year," Miho-san declared this as though it were the world's greatest piece of drivel he had ever encountered. "I believed no such thing."

"Thank you then, Miho-san," Shuichi plastered on his business smile, never mind the man would not see it. It was important only that the smile affected his voice. "I apologise for the short notice again." After the usual goodbyes and arrangement of details, he hung up and tossed his phone into his back pack.

"How do you feel now?"

"Strangely discontent," Shuichi smiled at his friend before leaving the hospital.

As he settled into the backseat of the company car, he muttered to himself, "But better."